Becoming Quinn

A little sadistic behavior here and there — what harm did that do?

One unnecessarily dead cop, that’s what.

Like so many other things in this world, Durrie had seen it coming. Any of the organizations he worked for would do well to hire him to lead them. Of course, he’d never take one of those jobs. He was more than content with his little slice of the pie, and happy to let lesser men handle the big picture. He was satisfied with knowing he was always right.

Peter came back on the line, his tone more controlled. “We need this situation contained. A dead cop has a way of spiraling out of control. I’m counting on you to take care of it.”

“It’s not going to be a problem,” Durrie said, meaning it. “I’ll set things up so that, worst case, we can tie the woman into what’s going on with Officer Oliver.”

He could sense Peter hesitate, and knew the head of the Office was thinking this was a tricky strategy that could easily flare up into a larger issue if not handled properly. Durrie, however, had no doubts. He was the one dealing with it, so it would be handled properly.

“It’s not going to be a problem,” he repeated.

“The connection gets made only if there’s no other choice.”

“Of course.”

“All right. Do it.”

It was an unnecessary order. Durrie was already planning to do it.

“About Oliver,” Durrie said. “What’s the status?”

Earlier, Durrie had received a call from Detective Kearns, telling him that Oliver had been called in to talk to the commander. Durrie had relayed this information to Peter, but had been unable to follow up on it because the situation with Larson and the woman had blown up not long after.

“Oliver’s been suspended,” Peter said.

“The information he presented?”

“Ignored.”

Good. That hole was plugged. Still…

“Were you able to find out what he’d learned?” Durrie asked.

“I was.” A hint of anger had returned to Peter’s voice. “It seems, in addition to the matchbook, Officer Oliver had a printout from a security camera that showed both Timmons and Larson together.”

Durrie was dumbstruck. How had a rookie cop picked out two seasoned professionals from what must have been hundreds of people in the footage, and connected them to the termination at the barn? How? How? How?

“That’s not all,” Peter said. “Oliver traced the two men to a coffee shop near the operation site.”

Durrie knew in his bones that’s what the cop and his friend had been doing at the coffee shop, but he’d been unable to accept the reality of it until now.

“One more thing,” Peter said.

More? How could there be more? This was already too much.

“He had other photos from the operation site. Marks in the sand where someone had been hiding behind an empty tank of some kind…”

The hairs on Durrie’s arm began to stand on end. That’s where he had been.

“…and one of a mark closer to the barn that looked like it had been made by a wire lying on the ground.” Peter paused. “Are you there?”

Durrie was, but he had no idea what to say. This kid had almost single-handedly exposed the entire operation.

“I’ll take care of the girl,” he finally said. “What do you want done with Oliver?”

“One dead cop we can work with. Two becomes an epidemic. So we’ll take his future day by day. Tomorrow is going to be even worse for him than this afternoon was. It’s possible you may not have to do anything. Then again…”

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Durrie said.

“I know you will.”

Before Peter could hang up, Durrie asked, “And Larson?”

“He stays with you.”

“Come on, Peter. He’s poison.”

“He stays with you. Use him, don’t use him, I don’t care. But know where he is at all times.”

The implication was clear. No matter what happened, there was a good chance this was going to be Larson’s last job.

The real question was, would it be Durrie’s, too?

* * *

Jake barely remembered driving to his apartment. He barely remembered opening the door, or dropping down on the couch. The sun going down — he had no memory of it at all.

Suspended.

That was not the notation he’d been hoping to add to his file. He’d be lucky if he ever got out of a patrol car now. He’d been a fool from the beginning. He should have known they wouldn’t listen to him, a rookie cop sticking his nose where it didn’t belong.

Of course, the brass would have been hard-pressed to believe him even if he’d been on the force for ten years. It was the men at the hotel. No matter how he worked it, there was no way to explain why he’d picked them out of everyone else, other than to say, “I just knew.”

Since he’d left Minnesota, Jake had become fascinated by the puzzles created by a crime. Getting the chance to solve them, like he had tried to do with the Goodman Ranch Road murder, was what had drawn him to law enforcement. If that wasn’t in his future, then he needed to look elsewhere. He’d have to see how things went, and if it looked like his career had already topped out here, he’d find a police force somewhere else that would give him a fresh start.

The thing he was having the biggest difficulty with was that he knew he was right. Forget how he came to finger the men at the hotel. They had been involved somehow. Yes, he was the one who found them, but who cared? No one else would have even looked in that direction. But because it was Jake and not Detective Hubbard or Young, the men were going to get away.

Perhaps another piece of evidence would have helped sway his superiors. Perhaps if he could have shown them—

He sat up.

Berit.

His apartment had turned dark while he’d been sitting there, so he fumbled around on his coffee table, searching for his phone until he found it.

There were no new calls, just the two from Berit and her message. He played it again, listening to the whole message this time.

“You’re not going to believe this. I found the BMW. At least I think I did. It got towed into an impound yard yesterday. Same description, same license plate number. Look, I’m going to go check and see if it’s the same one. I’ll call you once I’m there.”

Jake looked at his phone log again. That was hours ago. Why hadn’t she called back?

He accessed her number and called her.

Four rings. Five, then, “Leave a number after the beep, and I’ll call you back.”

“It’s Jake. What happened? Did you see the car? Call me. I’m…I’m at home. Long story, but, well, just call me.”

He hung up.

Today was her day off, so, with his sudden suspension, it was possible she’d been called in to take his shift. It would certainly explain why she hadn’t answered her phone.

He dialed the substation operator, but cut off the call before the connection was made. The operator would see his number and maybe even recognize his voice. Could be it wouldn’t matter, but then again someone would wonder why the suspended Officer Oliver was calling Officer Davies.

“Dammit,” he said. He would have to wait for her to call him back.